


Seth, Sick

by orphan_account



Category: House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: Emetophilia, M/M, Masturbation, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth's not feeling well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SubwayWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/gifts).



That Seth is sporting a semi is nothing new, especially now that President Underwood's mood has plummeted almost into the lamp throwing stage of livid, something that inevitably excites the Communications Chief from Amarillo. It happens a lot, Frank's sudden rages, like a sudden clustering of slate grey clouds on a sickly yellow sky, when any sensible Texan would headed for the nearest tornado shelter. Seth wasn't what you call sensible, at least not in this way. As a teenager, he'd hear the tornado sirens and hurry outside, a beer in his hand and a hardon. He'd even jerked off once, watching a twister demolish the truck stop down the street, his come pattering against the ground with pea-sized pellets of hail. Working with Frank felt like this and he wouldn't have it any other way.

What does surprise him is the queasy feeling that's been lodged in his belly since morning. It couldn't have been the beere last night with dinner, he'd only had one. He'd cut back now that he and Doug began living together. Not that they has officially announced the fact, he thinks, feeling a chill crawl up his back as a he swallows a mouthful of spit as Frank continues to shout. It had been a suprise to them both , how eell it's gone, though Seth supposes that even two Hone Badgers can get along. Seth shakes his head, practically drooling; not the first time his mouth has gotten wet and sloppy for the man, he thinks blearily, unselfconsciously adjusting his growing dick. Jesus, Frank gets him hot! All is fine and good, except for the queasy feeling that's starting to grow. It's LeAnn getting reemed, first and foremost, with Tom Yates coming in a close second, something he and Doug would savor for days in the privacy of their big bed, their semen drying into a glue as they lie belly to belly, Doug on top.

Seth closes his eyes, smiling closed mouthed to keep the drool from spilling down his chin as he listens to Frank's pretty drawl twisted with rage. He misses Doug's sharp glance that melts into real concern. Ignoring his belly, Seth openly palms his crotch as the storm rages around him.


	2. Chapter 2

As Seth buffs his swelling cock through the fine wool of his second best suit he remembers the last time he'd bent over the ornate Oval Office desk for Frank. Even if his allegiances can be bought, Seth’s a patriotic man who is ready to serve at the President’s pleasure.

 _For_ the President’s pleasure as well as his own, for there is always a peculiar thrill that gets him off nearly instantly when being used hard by Frank Underwood. He knows that Doug feels the same way, though unlike Seth, no one could doubt the man’s unparalleled loyalty; even the First Lady had come around after the incident of the doctor's notebook, re-acknowledge Doug's slavish devotion.

Seth doesn’t volunteer what happens on days when Frank has a taste for lthick Texas tube steak, nor does Seth ask about Doug's relationship with Frank. Doug can be loyal to Seth, too. Even last night, Doug had picked him up from the airport after a week long press junket to South America. He'd seemed happy enough to see Seth, though a stranger might not have known it unless they were astute enough to notice the Chief of Staff's quick glances during the drive home, the corners of his mouth twitching, along with a subtle relaxation of the worried grooves of the balding man's face.

More obvious was the hot dinner that was placed in front of Seth after a long, hot shower. His appetite had been poor but Seth managed to eat most of his plate, Doug sitting across from him with a look of utter contentment. There are scratches on Doug's back, Seth notices later. Frank's mark, no question about it. Seth understands and it reminds him to ask Doug to scratch between his shoulder blades, to get at the cluster of mosquito bites he'd received in Rio.

"Should have used repellent, " Doug had commented, his attention turning elsewhere. "Say, was your ass always so fat?" he'd continued, grabbing sly little handfuls and making things jiggle.

  
"Fuck you, " Seth gasps, half laughing and half shaking, as Doug dips lower, applying his tongue against a groove and diving further, everything else inconsequential for a time.


	3. Chapter 3

Seth stops rubbing his dick long enough to loosen the knot of his tie and pull it off his neck, which is now wet, slick with sweat. The silk is stained but that's okay - it's his red tie, his red badge of courage, his... Losing his train of thought is something altogether new for the former poor boy who's lived by his considerable wit, clawing his way to the top of the fucking heap. It's just too damn hot, Seth tells himself, shoving the ruined tie into his jacket pocket and then taking the jacket off, letting it slide to the floor before giving his balls a fond little squeeze. Frank's loud, commanding voice is still flaying LeAnn and Tom Yates hides and it gets him even harder.

"Seth!" It's not a shout but a hiss, coming from Doug's thinned lips. Seth wipes the spittle from his mouth trying to smile, an act cut short by the sudden rise of bile from his churning belly. The room is still getting hotter but Seth doesn't care, his fingers making quick work of his buttons until his dick practically whimpers from neglect.

  
"Hold on, pardner," Seth whispers to his crotch, stopping midway down his shirt so that he can continue kneading his swollen manhood.

"Goddamn it, Seth!" Doug tries again, only to catch the President's fury.

"Oh, am I interrupting something, Mr. Stamper?" Frank snarls, getting into Doug's personal space like he belongs there. Seth guesses he does, all things considered, but what did poor Doug do to deserve a dressing down? Dressing down, yeah, he thinks, ripping the buttons to pull his shirt off, his cuff links popping to the rug as he struggles with his wrists, unseen by Frank, whose voice is rising. A pineapple-shaped lamp goes flying through the air, crashing unharmed against the thick rug, nearly clipping Doug's knee.

Seth swallows hard, willing himself to his feet. His man is being attacked and there's only one thing he can think to do.

It's hard to walk, the way his dick is swollen in the confines of his bespoke trousers but Seth marches towards the President undaunted, ignoring LeAnn and Tom's shocked faces as he taps on Frank's shoulder.

Whirling around, Frank's face turns an alarming shade of red as he takes in the sight of his half-nude, sweating, visibly aroused Director of Communications.

"Hold on Frank," Doug gasps, actually catching the President's arm before he can respond to Seth's self-important chest push.

"You lay off my man!"

There. Seth's done it, laid his claim on the slim, balding, brilliant Doug in spite of Frank's obvious command.

"Beg pardon?" This comes out soft and restrained and somehow one hundred times worse than the President's shouting.

"You heard me!" Seth barks, nearly doubling over as a wave of burning stomach contents hits the back of his throat. Sputtering, he continues. "He does everything you want, without question. Doug's the best damn thing that ever happened to you and don't you touch a hair on his fucking head!"

Dizzy, this last bit strikes Seth as funny, a burst of laughter rising as he promptly vomits on Frank's nice shoes.

A strong hand grabs his hair, wrenching Seth's head up so he can face the Commander in Chief.

"You are disgusting! A nasty piece of poor white trash, that's what you are!" Frank growls, stepping backwards as Seth's belly begins to hitch again. Not only that but his cock is pulsing like crazy now, swollen to ludicrous hardness as Frank's words draw feelings of shame from the recesses of Seth's brain.

I AM a piece of redneck, poor white trash, he thinks dolefully, suddenly astonished that he'd found the audacity to talk back to the man who's helped make him a Washington powerhouse. Seth tries to apologize but thick, sour lumps of undigested food suddenly surges up, crowding his mouth and it's futile to keep it hidden away or re-swallowed. There's so damn much of it, so slimy and thick. A thick wave of vomit comes flying from his mouth, hitting Frank's beautiful white shirt, hanging still for a moment before it starts dripping down to stain his dress pants. Smiling apologetically, Seth collapses in the foul mess, thoroughly ashamed and somehow satisfied, his cock erupting in its own, less dramatic fashion.

"Jesus, he's just creamed himself!" Frank whispers, scariest of all as he shakes his head and takes a deep, choking breath of sour air.

Doug and Edward restrain the President, who would very much like to kick Seth in the ribs. Good thing they do because in a flash, the man from Amarillo is flopping on the rug like a goldfish out of water, his eyes rolling back in his head as he tries to hold on to the moment of pleasure and censure.

 

.


	4. Chapter 4

(3 days later)

Words tumble against Seth's ears like pebbles down a waterfall. The words are unclear but the voice is soothing, warm and comforting. He's too tired to struggle to understand the slow rise and fall of vowels and consonants but he's knows that voice. Heard it protest, threaten, even curse and moan with pleasure in his ear. He relaxes and falls back to sleep.

(later)

Time is no longer judged by clock or even quantity of light; his eyes burn when he tries to open them so he sleeps some more, the gentle tap-tap of a nearby laptop. It's alost as soothing as the voice, though Seth can't quite fathom why.

(even later)

There's a hot weight near Seth's knee from which a faint whistling snore sounds. His arm is tethered by wires and tube and it feels as though gravity has doubled its pull but Seth manages to brush fingertips against his visitor's fine, bald head. Doug doesn't startle, merely exhaling a contented sigh before looking up and smiling.. "Hey, there," he whispers. Seth tries to reply but his mouth is too dry, so he merely smiles back, widening as Doug gratefully kisses each finger.

*

Ice chips are deemed permissible by the cheerful clutch of doctors and nurses who crowd the room, nearly applauding each time Seth performs more than a dozen indignant tests in addition to numerous pokes, prods and pricks. It's enough to make Seth wonder just how bad off he'd been. His memories of what preceeded this are strange and confused. No, horrible, so bad that he can only assume it isn't a memory but a fevered dream. Doug dips a spoon into the cup of ice as the medical team finally leaves. He's good at it, not spilling a drop though Seth is certain he'd forgive him if he did. The ice chips melt on his tongue and it's better than an orgasm, better than a dozen orgasm and it's a shame that Seth is too weak to wrest the cup away from Doug. Instead he croaks, "More!" Doug complies, looking suddenly ten tears younger.

*

When he wakes up again, Doug's gone but Meechum is sitting at attention next to the hospital bed, grinning broadly as Seth struggles to sit up. Meechum fiddles with a set of controls until Seth is comfortable, not seeming to mind a bit as Seth demands Doug's presence.

  
"President Underwood needed him," Meechum patiently explains, opening a cup of jello and grabbing a spoon. "He'll be back soon," he continues reassuringly, spooning the red, sweet stuff into Seth, like a mama bird feeding her chick.

*

"What happened? " Seth asks later that evening, after Doug returns., crisp and neatly shaved, Frank's greatest asset after the First Lady.

Doug takes his hand, resting it against his cheek after kissing Seth's palm.

"The mosquito bites. You caught the Zika virus. There were complications."

Seth listens, words like 'encephalitis' and 'seizures' scaring the hell out of him. His hand trembles but Doug holds on tight, like he never means to let him go.

"I almost died."

Doug tries to answer but he can't. It doesn't matter, his eyes give everything away. They sit silently for a few moments but then Seth starts to shake, with tears rolling down his cheeks. Doug's eyes are wet, too.  He toes out of his shoes, lowers the bed's railing and very carefully eases next to Seth. He curls cllose, lean and angular against Seth's comfortable bulk, his ear resting above his heart, eyes closed, like he's memorizing the sound.

"Hey, I had the weirdest dream when I was unconscious. "

"Oh?" replies Doug, his voice suddenly guarded.

"Uh-huh. We were in the Oval Office and Frank was yelling and I was stripping down, touching. .."

"It...it wasn't a dream," Doug blurts.

"So then I. .."

Doug nods, his nose tickling Seth's ribs.

"And then I. ..." Seth doesn’t need to finish and he doesn't need Doug to confirm..

"Jesus. Am I fired? I'm fired. Fuck." He blushes, his dick stirring, as if it remember even more of the embarrassement, as it had liked it.

Doug notices, reaching below the covers to give it and Seth's balls a comforting pat. "Look over on the table next to the window."

There's a delft blue bowl sitting there, filled with mounds of gorgeous white rose blossoms.

"He sent that?'

Doug smiles. "Claire delivered them herself, day before yesterday. They want you back."

Seth relaxes, but a troubling thought occurs. "What about you?"

Doug laughs,  smoothing his hand over the softness of Seth's belly.   "Babe, you're already mine."  

"Always," Seth yawns,  already half asleep. 


End file.
